


Nous sommes davantage dans le temps

by ezilo



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, mention of depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-08-17 02:09:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16507325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ezilo/pseuds/ezilo
Summary: Dan’s milestones are somehow linked with youtube videos and Phil, and sometimes both.





	Nous sommes davantage dans le temps

**Author's Note:**

> So. This has been sitting in my laptop for literal months now and I just worked up the courage to post it. Huge thanks to  @auroraphilealis  for betaing (seriously if this is any good it’s thanks to her) and inspiring this and generally being wonderful. This is kind of dedicated to her, and to everything her writing has done for me, and a lot of people I think. This is based on a list of the most popular type of videos on youtube, my philosophy exam and a conversation with elizajane. I also know practically nothing about philosophy so don't judge me on that.  
> Oh and the title is from something my philosophy teacher said last year: "Nous sommes davantage dans le temps que le temps est en nous" which translates to "We are more in time than time is in us". It was the starting point of this fic, actually.  
> As always, english isn't my first language so if there are any mistakes, feel free to tell me!

_Back to School tutorial_

Here’s the thing. Knowing something inside and out, diving into it, knowing every corner of it, apparently doesn’t make you accept it. 

Dan knows time. He knows universe. He knows what Pascal, Leibniz, Einstein, and others have said about it. Descartes is no stranger to him, even in the original language, thanks to the Canadian boy he spent a few weeks with (or was it months?) who used to read him the Discours de la Méthode with so much passion Dan just had to kiss him. 

Dan knows about the universe. He knows how others explain it. 

But that doesn’t mean he’s satisfied with the answers he gets.

He knows that the present cannot be grasped, not truly, has swallowed quotes about this his entire study life, but he’s still longing for something that will help him anchor himself to the present. He’s had the feeling of belonging, finally, at the banged up kitchen table in Workingham, one hand buried in Collin’s fur, curls freed and smiling wide. He’s had the swelling, wool like grasping at his heart of falling in love with eyes and lips and thoughts and giggles. 

But still. 

Present doesn’t hold him, or he doesn’t hold the present, or he doesn’t understand what present is, or he should stop drinking coffee at eleven pm. 

Dan can’t sleep, but maybe that’s because he keeps asking questions that even philosophy cannot answer when he should just ask to sleep. He’s never been good at asking one thing. It’s easier to think his brain is aching because of the sense of time and the universe than because his first class is tomorrow. 

He ends up losing himself in back to school youtube videos, and trying not to remember that he’s over thirty.

 

_Funny animals compilation_

Dan’s fidgeting with the marker, popping the cap off, pushing it back down nervously, twirling it between his fingers. He’s early, for the first time in his life, which means there’s one less reason he can prove himself to be an absolute fail. 

The timetable on the door says that at eight thirty there’s an “Introduction to the philosophy of space and time” by Professor D. Howell. 

Professor. For a minute he thought there was someone else named D Howell, because surely that couldn’t be him, right?

He sinks into the chair, head falling between his hands, and he can feel them trembling, where they bury in his hair. He ignores the hollow noise echoing around him that he thinks is most likely his head being annoying, but thus far his head has never said ‘hello?’ in a man’s voice, so he looks up.

“Yes?” he says to the tall man whose hand is still poised on the door.

“Hi! I’m so sorry to bother you, but I’m looking for the seminar room 205 but I got lost, and then I was on the right track and then I got lost again. So do you know where that is?”

Dan’s momentarily baffled by the amount of things the man said so quickly, and the chipper tone of his voice, like all of the words are lifted up in the last syllable.

“Uhm, yeah,” he clears his throat nervously, fist tightening around the marker in his right hand. “It’s right down the hall, then turn left. Third door on the right.”

“Oh, I had no idea it was this close. I’m really sorry to bother you again.” And that doesn’t really make any sense, it’s the first time he’s bothered him, but Dan recognizes the nervous rush of words, he’s felt this flustered himself in a lot of situations. 

There’s a pause where Dan is about to say that it’s completely fine if he ever remembers how to use actual words, but the man speaks up again. “And good luck for your class!” 

That makes Dan let out some kind of half chuckle, and some words miraculously tumble out of his mouth. “Thanks, it’s my first day,” he says, which is too much information. The man will probably just nod politely and leave immediately.

“I’m sure it’ll go great! Are you nervous?”

“Definitely yeah.” Which is, again, too much information, and too honest.

“You don’t need to be. You know your stuff, right?” 

Dan nods, gets a smile in response. 

“And the students will love you.”

“Thanks.”

If the man’s offended by Dan’s short answer, he doesn’t say, and it doesn’t show. Dan really wishes he could say something more, he really does, but he’s unsure of what; how do you deal with a stranger’s kindness? This is why he doesn’t go outside.

“I’ll get out of your hair. Think of happy things to relax yourself! Bye!”

And he’s gone. It’s the kind of encounter that starts a movie about a friendly quirky ghost, not the kind of thing that actually happens to people. 

Dan shakes his head, but he can’t deny it’s taken his mind off of the class. Think of happy things! The words echo, spoken in a deep voice somehow laced with a sparkly lightness. Dan realizes he still has about 15 minutes left before his class when he glances, up at the clock ticking loudly. He opens up youtube, and gets lost in sloth videos for a while.

 

Dan’s class goes relatively well. It could have gone better, definitely, but Dan hadn’t said anything too strange, or too random in his panic. He’s been able to answer student’s questions, and even got a few smiles that didn’t seem pitiful. 

Once his students are all gone, Dan sits down and feels a smile etch itself onto his face. 

And maybe that’s another way to cling himself to the present. 

When he pulls up his phone, he finds baby sloths bathing immediately open, and that smile widens a bit. 

Dan’s riding high on the adrenaline of having his first class, of it going well, and stands up abruptly. He shoulders his backpack and heads down the hall, turns left, and slows down in front of the third door, lingering outside, as the class is apparently not over yet. 

There are thoughts infiltrating his brain now - of this being insanely creepy, of being inappropriate. Paranoia buzzes under his skin, threatens to eradicate the giddiness. But then the door opens, students pour out, and Dan looks on dazedly, drowned in panic.

“Oh hi!”

He looks up instantly and meets crinkly eyes.

“Hi.” 

There’s an awkward silence where they look at each other, grumpy students passing them, shoulders bumping while they hold eye contact.

“So how did your class go?” the smile in the man’s voice is palpable.

“Good, actually, better than I thought it would. I, uh, took your advice about the happy things. Watched animal videos.”

“I love animal videos!” The man’s voice booms on love, his eyes snapping to Dan’s, all wide and oh.

Blue.

“Me too.”

 

_How Buffy should have ended_

That blue seeps into his life now, through the first exchange of names and numbers in that hallway and then through endless hours at starbucks. The blue is the first thing Dan notices about Phil, but things add up through with every over enthusiastic text, every all caps comment only Phil would think about, every caring smile or giddy giggle. Dan learns things about Phil the way he’s always learned things: obsessively cataloguing facts, and waiting to get sick of Phil like he gets sick of everything after a while.

He doesn’t want to, though.

Turns out Phil isn’t a professor, or a student, though. He just came in to listen to one of his friends, to support him, because Phil just does that. Turns out Phil is a youtuber, because yes that’s a job a thirty-five year old is allowed to have. Not that Dan let his surprise show (much). He wanted Phil to like him and think he’s accepting and open-minded and all that shit.

Three weeks later, when he discovers Phil doesn’t like cheese, he mutters that he hates him, and knows what Phil thinks of him is just right.

The first time they hang out outside of starbucks, it’s at Phil’s, which is blinding and overwhelming, like eating too many ice creams in the summer, desperate for cold, with sugar lingering on your tongue. 

Dan likes it though. 

They start an anime together, and it’s comforting to know that Phil realizes that that’s a big deal too. They end up in a heated debate over which character’s will end up together, and who shouldn’t, during which they both hint multiple times at their attraction to pretty anime boys. 

They’re not subtle and Dan loves it. Dan would be ashamed of his laugh, of his twisted humor, but, well. Phil’s tongue sticks out when he laughs, his sense of humor is surprisingly just as twisted as Dan’s and his smile is accepting.

They talk, too. About Phil’s YouTube channel, about Dan’s existential crises, all laced with sarcasm and humor, but that’s enough for now. 

Dan ends up making Phil cave and they watch some of his videos, which makes a delicate pink blush bloom on Phil’s pale skin. They get closer and closer with every video they click on, wandering into parody videos, Phil’s arm secure around Dan’s shoulders, and it doesn’t feel foreign at all. 

Phil gets overly worked up about How Buffy should have ended, promptly ends their friendship upon learning Dan hasn’t watched it, and starts up a “vital binge watch”.

Just as Buffy’s cheerleading team gets cursed, Phil’s lips end up on his.

 

_Compilation of saddest love scenes 2_

Everything mostly stays the same. 

The changes that do occur, in the gaps of their already crackling friendship, are wonderful. Phil gets to shut Dan up with a kiss when he’s being obnoxious about winning Mario kart, the bed is warm, Dan gets understanding and laughter and also a naked Phil on his couch playing fortnite, which is an at first surprising but not displeasing sight. They fall asleep on each other with the computer still on, and Phil drags Dan to the bedroom when the pain in his neck becomes too much.

There’s one night though, where everything feels wrong. The world is subdued and grayed out, and Dan wants to stay in bed all day. 

He knows what this is. He’s worked through recognizing his depression in his twenties, but no one warned him that it doesn’t stop with that. Existential crises linger on even if your life is safe and figured out. They don’t stop when you settle down. 

But Phil was going to come over tonight, so Dan pulls at the muscles in his distant body and orders some pizza.

But he can’t really pretend for Phil. 

He can’t feel bad for not pretending either. 

He just can’t, period, and Phil notices. 

Phil asks, Dan grunts, eyebrows furrowed. He ends up frustrating Phil, a lot. 

Phil’s sighing and cursing under his breath and leaving. 

Of course. 

Dan will feel that in the morning, but for now he just feels even more choked by sadness than before, even though he didn’t think he could.. 

He falls into bed, stomach empty, doesn’t feel it. The dark hours of the night are spent watching sad compilations, listening to melancholic songs, and trying to just feel, please. 

He’s a bit better by morning. Or worse, given that he feels the pain of Phil having left now.

But, well. He comes back. 

At eleven am, the doorbell rings. Dan is wrapped up in his duvet, should be drinking water, but he opens the door anyway. 

There stands Phil, feet shuffling, eyes rimmed in glasses, carrying a plastic bag.

“Hey.”

“Uhm, hey.”

“So I wanted to apologize for being a dick last night. I shouldn’t have snapped at you when you were feeling down. I brought you some pancakes as an apology. And if you don’t want to see me anymore, then, well. Enjoy the pancakes.”

Dan just stares. 

He wants to say he will explain, he wants to say they’ll figure it out, they’ll communicate, they’ll make up systems, they’ll do this because Phil, well Phil you make me want to talk about the pit I fall into to someone that’s not Dr. Linda, Phil you make me want to be better than this, Phil you make me want to stay up all night just to stare into your eyes instead of staring into the dull London sky wondering why I exist.

“Thank you, Phil.” He says for now. 

He’ll say the rest later.

They share a plate of pancakes and pick up where they left off on Buffy, because Dan likes seeing Phil mouth the witty retorts the heroin gives the Mayor. Phil always loves Buffy. Rain or shine, stress or bliss, or both. Dan wishes he had that, but slowly, he starts feeling the warmth of Phil, starts laughing, starts feeling pained when Angel leaves through the mist.

Eventually, he says “I hate you” to Phil after he rambled about why Angel isn’t as good as Buffy, and gets a knowing smile in return.

 

_Let’s play! Sims 34: Our Sim gets abducted by aliens???_

They’re tangled up on the couch, laptop on their thighs, after one of Phil’s low days. Their bones are digging against each other and knocking, too warm on the leather, when Dan asks Phil to move in with him. 

Phil’s mesmerized by the new episode of their favorite “Let’s play!”, and just hums distractedly when he hears the question. 

Dan promptly punches him, gets an indignant high pitched Hey! in response. 

He repeats it, “D’ya wanna move in with me?”. 

Phil turns to him then, eyes wide and taking on a slightly neon shade of blue caused by the glow of the laptop screen. 

“Yeah.” he says, simple as that. 

And his head whips back to the sim being transported into an alien shuttle. And, well. There’s not much more to that decision than a domestically tinged obviousness.

 

_Easy red velvet cupcakes!_

Dan is a mess. He’d barely gotten any sleep the night before, drowning in a despair to find meaning to all of it. Why he’s here, why does he teach when he cannot understand. 

Phil tries to help, but they have systems now, and Phil knows he has to leave Dan alone and go back to sleep. The regular snoring is enough to reassure Dan, sometimes.

Dan’s halfway through an attempt at red velvet cupcakes, and it’s not going great. 

They are not red, first of all, because Dan mistook the green coloring for the red one, and it’s all just a general ongoing mess. Phil is, of course, not here to reassure Dan,or make fun of him, or press him against the counter and make out with him while the cupcakes bake. Phil picking up his mom from the station. 

Which is a thing. 

Dan’s meeting Phil’s mom. 

He’s not really nervous about her. She must be lovely and quirky. But Dan’s scared of not impressing her, of not being enough for her wondrously creative son, stuck in a philosophy position he’s had for a year and a half now. And what kind of functioning adult has only been working for a year and a half? Dan doesn’t want to have to explain losing three years doing law, or not being brave enough to take the leap and study philosophy, instead dabbling in cosmology for a while, eating up existentialism because it fit him, and adding up degrees through years of procrastination and pulling all nighters writing papers he should have written over the past couple of weeks and months. 

He’s a grown man, but he’s still insecure, scared, and a bit ashamed of his past. 

Phil works on that too, untying knots of self-hatred in the night with smooth fingertips, so Dan remembers Phil saying, “She’ll love you, Dan, who wouldn’t?”, and fusses over the decorating of his cupcakes, lamenting their lack of aesthetic.

“Dan, we’re home!” 

He pauses the cupcake tutorial, cursing the girl with perfectly curled hair and cherry red pastries, places his cupcakes on a porcelain plate, and walks out, greeting Mrs. Lester as she drags him into her arms.

He and Phil munch on the leftover swamp green cupcakes that night and, well, he’s got a new family member now, who seems to like him, contemplations of death and failed baking and all.

 

_How to live your truth_

Phil doesn’t come out, but Dan peeks through his channel, through his subscribers comments, through the content and the videos and the theories his fans create. 

There’s the sound of cooking during a live show that triggers obsessive all caps and question marks. There’s an unmade double bed in the background of a video that leads to furious googling and careful expressions of happiness for Phil. There’s another hand in a pic of a healthy cherry blossom, zoomed in on and examined. There’s less and less selfies because now Phil has someone to take pictures of him, while he smiles and grins more naturally. And finally, there’s the first joint live shows, with their careful dodging of the actual status of their relationship, and interactions played over and over again in beautifully edited videos reblogged on tumblr. 

All of it is a commitment by Phil’s fans to Dan, like Phil commits to Dan every day, to the place Dan has in Phil’s life, undefined but solid.

Dan holds the sky in his eyes at night, and wonders what the sense of it is. 

Pascal said that Humans don’t hold the present. And Dan admires Pascal, but his present is rhythmed by Phil’s breathing, their rituals and systems, and the constant disappearance of sugar Phil causes. 

Dan likes transparency and honesty about what he feels, and what he wants right now. 

But he doesn’t know who he is, not really, dipping into his thirties, and maybe that’s okay. His present is ever changing and slips between his fingers, but Phil is the background of it, holds Dan in it. 

And Dan gets up to teach Pascal, and to not believe him every day, because of Phil.


End file.
